Eames sat back then, nodding once, taking the continued silence as an answer, though not the one he'd been hoping for it was, sadly, the one he'd been expecting, "Alright. Once we're out of here you won't hear from me again."

He wasn't sure, really, why it felt like he couldn't breathe. It had been a good year, the best year, and it had ended too soon, but it had ended, and he should have known better than to try and get it back. Time was slippery like that, couldn't go back once it had passed.